the bastion
And you should know,
I left but never lost my place
I left but never lost my place
Remi’s laughter slips out, rich and easy, as he presses a hand to his chest in feigned gravity. "More often than not, it does," he assures her, and there’s something deeply pleased in the way his eyes shine at the sound of tramezzini in her voice—rounded with that hint of the travelling tongue, gentle and a little playful, as if it’s an inside joke only for them.
His smile softens into something crooked and boyish, dimples deepening, and for a moment he just beams at her as if he can’t quite believe this reunion is real. "It’s a promise," he murmurs, warmth curling beneath the words. "Triangle sandwiches, tea, and as many Tuesdays as you can stand."
But even as he says it, there’s a mischief growing in his gaze—one that glances past her toward the makeshift dance floor where lanterns throw gold against the sand and laughter spins between the music. He tips his chin in that direction, curls mussed by the evening breeze, voice lowering in a conspiratorial lilt. "But since I can’t offer you a proper tramezzino just now...could I offer you a danzare instead?" He extends his hand, palm open and inviting, an echo of so many past nights spun out under a different set of stars.
And as the music stirs the air, Remi waits, hope and affection written openly across his face, ready to pull her with him into the slipstream of old rhythms made new again.
His smile softens into something crooked and boyish, dimples deepening, and for a moment he just beams at her as if he can’t quite believe this reunion is real. "It’s a promise," he murmurs, warmth curling beneath the words. "Triangle sandwiches, tea, and as many Tuesdays as you can stand."
But even as he says it, there’s a mischief growing in his gaze—one that glances past her toward the makeshift dance floor where lanterns throw gold against the sand and laughter spins between the music. He tips his chin in that direction, curls mussed by the evening breeze, voice lowering in a conspiratorial lilt. "But since I can’t offer you a proper tramezzino just now...could I offer you a danzare instead?" He extends his hand, palm open and inviting, an echo of so many past nights spun out under a different set of stars.
And as the music stirs the air, Remi waits, hope and affection written openly across his face, ready to pull her with him into the slipstream of old rhythms made new again.
and these nights I miss you most
my heart is yours to break
my heart is yours to break
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
